


United

by LanxBorealis



Series: What We Can't See, What We Can't Hear, What We Can't Say [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Dark, Platonic Relationships, Sad, Scary Woods, sibling feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 01:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3791854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanxBorealis/pseuds/LanxBorealis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Sequel to Scrutiny]<br/>Where were they?<br/>What is lingering just beyond the shadows?<br/>Why wouldn't he wake up?</p>
<p>WAKE UP DIPPER</p>
            </blockquote>





	United

She found him in the dirt, face down, covered in leaves

It was dark. Very, very dark. She couldn't see anything. Her heart dominated her ears, filling them with the sounds of her erratic and worried heartbeat and nothing else.

Letting her eyes flicker around her, she saw nothing. Just gaping darkness. Remembering all the movies she'd seen where the monster would fall from the ceiling, she craned her neck upward.

Blackness blanketed above. The cover of leaves must be too thick to see through. It was the only option, really.

Falling to her brother's side, she gently rolled him over.

Slow and long breaths broke through his nostrils, his ribs expanding and contracting. His skin was slightly flushed and scratched up, showing a similar struggle she had had with the undergrowth. The heavy, purple bags were there as always, hanging low. It made him look like some sort of ghoul.

“Dipper.” She whispered, hyper-aware of where she was.

There was no response.

Biting her lip, she shook his shoulder, calling his name out softly again.

“C'mon, Dipping-sauce, you gotta wake up.”

Again, not even a twitch.

Her hands shook as she carefully checked her brother over. Nothing seemed to be the problem. The only wounds he had were shallow scratches. There was no bumps or lumps on his head; he hadn't been physically knocked out.

So why wouldn't he wake up? Dipper had always been a light sleeper.

She scowled slightly. Why did Dipper have to run out into the forest near nighttime? Why did he have to fall asleep in said forest? She hissed slightly through her teeth. Stupid Dipper. Did he _have_ a death wish or something?

Her thoughts made her suddenly very, very cold.

No. No. Dipper wouldn't do that. It wouldn't even cross his mind. He could never just leave their family, their friends, _her_. No, Dipper could never do that.

Even if he's been more sad lately.

Even if he didn't seem to trust anyone.

Even though he's turned away from everyone...

No. Dipper still loved her. Still loved all of them. He was just a bit angry still. That's all. Dipper has always been the one to carry a grudge, after all. But that didn't mean anything. He forgave Pacifica, after all. Dipper couldn't hold a grudge _forever_ now. Could he?

Of course he couldn't! Mabel didn't let her mind dwell on those darkening thoughts anymore. There was no point to it. Worrying and wondering wouldn't get them back home, after all. Wouldn't help Dipper wake up. Wouldn't do anything helpful whatsoever.

Mabel raised her voice some, shaking Dipper with more gusto. “C'mon, Dipper. We gotta get out of here. It's dark now. You said you'd be back by dinner.”

Dipper still didn't move.

Chills creeped along Mabel's spine, deadly and sharp. She whipped around, her fluffy hair bouncing around her round face.

There was nothing behind her.

She stared into the darkness, hard. She could practically feel the eyes of something on her. Waiting.

Right.

There.

Right out of sight.

In the darkness.

Another shudder passed by the warm girl, icicles of fear collecting around her heart. Subconsciously, she opened her mouth to breathe better, feeling an out of character weight of anxiousness fall around her.

Mabel turned back around. “Dip?” She squeaked, her voice small in the night. Clearing her throat, she winced at the loud sounds she made. They echoed around her, a testament of where she was.

Eyes darting around, she spoke again. Just as quiet, but with more confidence in her voice. “Dipper. Please wake up.

_Ha..._

Mabel jumped. Falling over her brother, she protected his fallen form with her body while her hands whipped up to protect the back of her head and neck.

She heard something. She didn't know what, but she heard something.

Laughter.

It was faint. So faint, that she could barely hear it over the sounds of her own breathing. But it was there, playing with the edges of her mind, teasing and testing her all at once.

How long would it take?

How long would it take to make her _scream_?

She shuddered once again. She could definitely feel it's eyes. Burning her with its gaze. She didn't know who they belonged to, didn't know what matter of creature it could be, but it was there.

Right behind her.

Within the cover of darkness.

She gripped her fallen brother tighter. She wanted him to wake up.

To hold her.

To tell her it would all be okay, that they were _fine_ and _it's going to be okay because nothing will hurt you because I love you and I'll protect you an we will be fine..._

But now who was protecting who?

She buried her face deeper into the crook of her brother's neck, feeling too hot tears start to prick at her eyes.

She remembered how she'd always climb into his bed after she woke from a nightmare when she was little. Dipper would always turn and face towards her and tell her it was just a _dream_ and dreams weren't real and it was all _okay_.

She also remembered how the same young boy, who always told her it would be okay because dreams weren't real would crawl into her bed at night, trembling from the hidden monsters that would plague his nightmares. His eyes would be wet; the same eyes that would reflect the moon as she curled up next to him, feeling safe in his presence. She, like he did, would roll over to face him.

But she never told him dreams weren't real.

She would wrap her small arms around his squishy body, burying her face in his hair. He would shake against her, violent at first, fear leaking from every pore.

Then, his shaking would slow until it finally stopped. Until he relaxed completely, his arms loosening where they were tight around her as he fell into another, dreamless sleep.

Mabel felt laughter bubble at the back of her throat, choking and hard.

It wasn't a dream anymore now, was it?

Looks like both their nightmares had come true.

She could feel the shadow pass over her. Not a physical presence. No ghostly hand, no faint whisper trickling into her ears.

Just a shadow.

Her heart rammed against her rib-cage as the shadow seemed to pass by once again.

And again.

And again.

The eyes, hidden in darkness, still seemed to scorch her. See through her. Judge her.

Of all her faults.

All her mistakes.

_It's your fault, you know. Your fault your brother doesn't trust you anymore. If only you had hit that button..._

But if she didn't, they wouldn't have Grampa Stanley.

_Your fault that he ran away from you and got lost in the woods._

Well, what was she to do? She couldn't just force Dipper to stay.

_Your fault that he's passed out and hurt._

She didn't knock him out. She didn't run into the forest blindly. Well, she did. But Dipper should have known better! He actually has maps of the forest, after all.

_Your fault he doesn't love you anymore._

“You're wrong.” Mabel whispered out loud. Her tears, once shed with fear and sadness, flowed faster in her anger.

“You're wrong.” She said once again, stronger.

_Oh?_

“Dipper loves me. He always has and always will. He's my brother, my twin, but most importantly, my best friend. He would never _ever_ stop caring. Stop loving. He loves me, and I love him. You're wrong!”

She had shouted the last sentence, rage bubbling in her heart, boiling in her gut, searing through her veins.

Mabel tensed around her brother as pressure built up around her, negative, mind-numbing oppression that wanted to drag her down.

“YOU'RE WRONG!”

Mabel ripped her head out of the crook of her twin's neck. Her eyes illuminated the dark with her conviction, a proud and flaming fire that would never go out. Not for anything. Not for anyone.

She whipped around her and met...

Nothing.

No creature.

No eyes.

No shadowy grin.

Absolutely and positively nothing.

No oppression.

Mabel stared around the woods, her cheeks tear-stained. Sniffling slightly, she rubbed the back of her eyes with her hand, disliking how the tears were already drying to her skin.

Something tapped against her.

Jumping slightly, still spooked by...whatever it was that happened, Mabel stared down at her brother.

His left eye gave the slightest of twitches.

Mabel let out a breath she didn't even know she had been holding in. Relief washed through her, welcoming and warm like a nice bath.

“Dipper. C'mon, Dipper. Wake up. I saw you move, silly. I know you can.” She spoke out in her normal tone of voice. Despite the darkness that surrounded her, despite the tall and thick trees that seemed to swallow any and all light produced above, she no longer felt fearful.

“C'mon.” She asked again, flicking his red nose this time.

_“-el.”_

Mabel felt her body tense as she turned around to the far off voice.

_Crunch._

_Crunch._

_Crunch._

Note: Far off voice that was getting closer.

Her eyes flickered to her brother. She couldn't hope to pick him up and carry him away. He was a dead weight right now, in a dark forest, with tons of twisting roots to trip them up.

No, moving him wasn't an option.

And neither was leaving him.

Letting a small sigh escape her lips, Mabel grabbed her brother's limp hand and squeezed it for reassurance, slightly upset, though not surprised, when he didn't squeeze back.

_Crunch._

_Crunch._

_“-ipper?”_

No...she knew that voice.

_“Ack, God damn!”_

Mabel felt hope and safety fill her.

Impossible. How did he find them? How did he know?

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel cried out.

She heard his crunching footsteps stop briefly.

_“-abel?”_

“Grunkle Stan!”

The footsteps broke out into an unsteady run, getting louder as her eccentric Grunkle came closer. Though she still couldn't see him through the seemingly unnatural, impenetrable darkness, she could clearly hear the curses he hissed under his breath.

The next thing she saw was a wonderfully familiar dark shape fill the area to her right as warm arms engulfed her in a bone-breaking hug.

“Mabel...Just- just what...” His voice trailed off, his fear for her palpable yet fading away.

“Grunkle Stan, I'm so so so sorry! Dipper! He- and I had to go get him and it's dark and he promised, before dinner and I- I'm so sorry!” She broke down into relieved tears, wrapping her free arm around her Grunkle.

“Shhh...shhh...sweetie...” Stan murmured lightly into her hair, rubbing her back gently in soothing circles. Relief ran through his heart, erasing any anger he had towards the younger twins. What would he do if they ever got hurt? How could he live with himself if they ever-

but they were safe now.

Pulling away from the older of the twin's, he carefully pulled the fallen boy into his lap. His eyes flickered under his purple lids, though made no other movement besides that.

“He-He's not hurt. But he won't wake up.” Mabel supplied, scooting as close to the older man as she could. Though she didn't feel fear anymore, it didn't mean she felt safe either.

Stan narrowed his eyes. Sure, that was always an option, but what would that triangle freak want with his kids?

Nothing.

This- this wasn't proof. Sleep had simply caught up with the kid. Sleeping wasn't proof.

But then, why was his stomach sinking down into his toes?

Stan shook away his thoughts. He had time to think about this later. For now, he needed to focus on the situation at hand. They weren't out of the woods yet.

Literally.

“Little insomniac.” Stan grumbled not unkindly. Watching the kid's eyes flicker even more, Stan gave the kid a somewhat gentle slap on both cheeks. Enough to try and wake him up, but soft enough to not hurt.

A small groan made it's way out of the kid's throat, a soft and raspy sound.

“Uh?” He moaned, his eyes weakly cracking open.

“Dipper!” Mabel cried out, tackling the now awake twin in a bone-crushing hug.

That seemed to be the ticket he needed to wake up. Dark brown eyes flashing open, he muttered, “M-Mabel? What're...huh?”

Becoming more lucid, he struggled to sit up, however failed with his sister practically crushing him.

“OhmyGod OhmyGod I'm sosososorryDipperIthoughtyouwerehurtwhatwereyouthinkingbutyou'reokaynowandIthoughtIlostyoubutyou'reawakeandIloveyouandohmyGod...!” Mabel gushed, her words running together until she was a blubbery mess.

“Yesh, kid. Slow down some.” Stan said to Mabel while trying to pry her off Dipper so she wouldn't crush the poor kid to death.

Mabel slowly pulled back, eyes sparkling with unshed tears once more, a wide grin on her face.

“I-what are...? Ugh.” Dipper struggled to sit up once again. Unable to find the strength too, he fell back into his Grunkle's lap.

“Take it easy, kid. You were passed out on the ground.” Stan murmured.

“...Passed...out?” Dipper parroted, his eyes already trying to flutter shut again.

“You have any idea what happened, bro-bro?” Mabel asked.

Dipper tried to force his eyes open, tried to get his dry mouth to work, tried to get his unresponsive brain moving again. He- he had passed out. Right. Yeah. That is what happened. He was...tired? Right. Yeah. Tired.

And sad.

And lonely.

And angry.

He was a lot of things. Though right now, he didn't have the strength to be anything but tired.

“Yeah...I was- was sleepy.” He moaned again, ignoring the fact that he sounded like a little child.

Grunkle Stan frowned, unnoticed in the blackness of the night. “Well, that's what happens when you skip out on sleep.”

Dipper grunted in reply.

“Oh! Dipper, where did your hat go?” Mabel asked suddenly, only just now noticing the missing accessory.

Dipper gave a small shrug, his eyes blearily blinking at the familiar shape in the night.

Hopping up to her feet, Mabel felt around for the hat. Thick grass and soil brushed against her palm, along with the occasional decaying leaf and bug. Finally, her fingers brushed against a dirty but familiar fabric.

“Found it!” She called out. Turning around, she saw Grunkle Stan standing up carefully, trying to stop Dipper from falling over in his current state. Padding over to the two shapes, she flopped the hat over the brown hair of her brother, covering up the birthmark she was sure that was showing.

“...Thanks...Mabel.” Dipper muttered.

Mabel wrapped her arms around her brother once more, lightly rubbing a rosy cheek on his pale one. Despite the warmth of her hug, Dipper didn't return the gesture. He simply stood there.

Like a statue.

Arms limp at his side.

Fear spiked through her heart, flooding her mouth with a bitter taste.

The creature's words rang in her ears, high-pitched and malicious.

_Your fault he doesn't love you anymore._

She shuddered.

Unable to speak, she pulled away from him slowly. Staring at where she's sure his eyes would be, she felt ice prickle her heart once again. Without the light, she couldn't tell what Dipper was thinking, what sort of expression he had on.

If his eyes were as dead as they were when he left.

If they were as cold as they were when he left.

If they were as sad.

The twin's Grunkle sighed in the darkness, a low and quiet sound that didn't ring.

“C'mon, kids. Let's go home.”

“Home.” Mabel echoed.

“Mm.” Dipper commented. She couldn't tell if the sound was one of happiness or despair.

Gripping her brother's wrist tightly, Mabel her hand into Stan's, not wanting to let go in fear she'd lose him.

Or fear something would drag him away.

His larger hand carefully grasping the young girl's, Stan tried to carefully retrace his steps back to the shack, pulling his kids along as quietly and as safely as he could in the current conditions.

No noise penetrated the air besides his steady footfalls and breaths, Mabel's light-footed steps and slightly erratic gasps, and Dipper's stumbling feet and light groans.

The stale air was...suspicious to say the least and made every hair on him to stand on end. Stan didn't consider himself to be a paranoid person. Paranoia, worry, and anxiousness had always been Stanley and, now that he thought of it, Dipper's thing.

Not his.

But with the darkness all around him, surrounding him with woods trying to suffocate him, along with two twelve-year-old children bumbling behind him...

...Well, _paranoid_ was an understatement.

It seemed like they would be lost in the woods forever. Mabel whispered to him every once and a while if he knew where he was going, if he knew the way out. Every time he'd lightly scoff and tell her that of course he knew where he was going _and what do you take me for? A chump? I know everything. We'll be outta here in no time._

He knew his reassurance was empty and he knew Mabel knew that as well, as well as Dipper, though he didn't say anything. No one spoke out loud that they were lost in this void. That they were probably going to die and get eaten or something. That they-

“-are, are those stars?” A faint voice whispered from behind.

Stan turned his head, not expecting the boy to actually speak. Dipper had his head cranked up to the sky, pale and thin light falling on his features, causing disturbing shadows to cast along the contours of his face.

Stan held back a shudder at the unsettling view. It was hard to imagine dorky, goofy Dipper looking so... _creepy_ and the picture of it was a schism of who the boy was.

Stan didn't let his mind dwell on it, letting his eyes focus on his brightening surroundings.

“So it is.” He answered.

The three picked up the pace. As the tree's canopy grew thinner, the light grew brighter and the noises of the forest trickled back into a steady hum.

Stan never thought he would be so grateful to hear the growling of far away beasts and the buzzing of bugs.

The three were pretty much crashing through the forest undergrowth, Stan yanking Mabel and Dipper along in desperation to get out already.

The trees grew thinner.

The sky grew brighter.

The shack was in sight.

The three burst out of the tree line, covered in starlight, leaves, dirt, and blood.

Stan felt a sweaty hand slip out of his palm. Turning, he saw Mabel give Dipper another gigantic bear hug.

One that he, once again, didn't return.

Mabel buried her head into the crook of her brother's neck. Despite his unresponsiveness, she was so relieved and grateful that he was okay; that they _all_ were okay.

Mabel heard Grunkle Stan and Grandpa Stanley discuss something in the background, but was to enraptured by her brother.

He still wasn't hugging her back.

Biting her lip in fear, she leaned in to whisper into his ear. Words that she shouldn't have to ask, but had too. Words she didn't want to utter, in fear of the response she would be given.

“Dipper...you, you still love me, right?” She murmured. Her words were butterfly wings on his eardrums. Soft, quiet, and shocking.

She felt him tense against her, and she couldn't stop herself from fearing the worst.

That is, until she felt two noodly arms wrap tightly around her in return, giving just as much strength, if not more, into the hug.

“How...” His voice was like sandpaper, dry and rough. Like he'd been screaming. Or crying.

“Why would you even ask that? What sort of-” He gulped.

“Of course I love you.” He hissed into her ear, his voice strong and true.

Mabel felt tears well in her eyes.

“I-I'm sorry.” He said, softly. 

_For acting like a jerk._

_For pulling away._

_For making you doubt._

_For making you cry._

_For making you sad._

_For hurting you so deeply._

Those words didn't need to be said.

They were understood.

~~0~~0~~0~~

_In they drift_

_A forest of deception_

_One for consolation_

_One for love_

_One for forgiveness_

_In they drift_

_A forest of illusions_

_Given broken promises_

_and hurt_

_that cannot mend_

_by words alone..._

_...In they drift_

_A forest of the obscure_

_One is blind_

_One is deaf_

_One is mute_

_Yet all united_

_by the same love_

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the last part. I hope you enjoyed this last installment and I thank you all for reading and getting all the way here. I was experimenting with my style writing this and I think it turned out rather well.  
> Anyways, like I said, thank you, once again for reading. Stay classy, folks.


End file.
